Summary: You've got to win a little, loose a little, let your poor heart break a little... That's the story of, that's the glory of... we'll see what ;-)
Something good comes out of the bad things that happen in life?
My ass! How can it be good to loose the one thing you love more than life itself?
Disclaimer: The Twilight-universe belongs to Stephenie Meyer.
I own nothing but this plot and a brain that keeps coming up with FF ideas faster than I can write them down... 8-(
April 5th, 2006
My head hurts.
My throat is sore and I'm pretty sure I'm running a high fever.
I have to get up somehow. Need to go to the bathroom. Need to find some painkillers. Need to go back to sleep.
The appartment is empty. I'm alone.
Anthony must've been gone for a while now.
I feel bad for staying home cause I'm missing all of my classes these days. I'll have to catch up somehow.
Gladly Anthony and I not only live together we're also taking the same classes in college.
We're as inseparable as we've always been.
I warm up a tin of chicken soup. It's not as good as my moms but it's steaming hot and helps to get rid of the freezing shiver that's taken hold of my body.
Plus, I really can't say what it tastes like anyway. Could've been dish water for all I know, I wouldn't know the difference right now.
My tongue feels kind of furry and my taste buds are pretty useless.
I head back into my bedroom and quickly fall asleep.
The dream I'm having is kind of disturbing. It scares me.
It's dark around me.
I see a gun pointing at me.
It's fired and then everything is red.
A deep ruby red.
I wake up, my breathing is hitched and I'm covered in sweat. But that is very common for someone who has the flu. I grab some more painkillers and wash them down with a glass of water.
My breathing goes back to normal very soon but I feel something's off.
I'm nervous and I don't know why. I try to sleep some more but it doesn't work.
My body is sore and tired, craving sleep, but my head is reeling.
I have this strange feeling and can't seem to get rid of it.
In the late afternoon it even increases.
I'm a bundle of nerves by now.
My mom calls and tries to soothe my inner turmoil. But it only lasts while we're talking.
As soon as we hang up this weird gut feeling is back.
Afternoon passes by and turns into evening. Anthony should've been home by now.
Maybe I can at least read through the notes he took, when he gets back.
To distract myself and to at least try to keep up with the classes I'm missing.
Although it isn't likely. My head is still pounding and every sneaze makes it even worse.
Where the heck is Anthony? He should've been home an hour ago!
Well, maybe he went to the gym or met some friends...
Since I'm not his mother, I try to calm down and swear I won't call him on his cell.
He's old enough to know what he's doing.
But I'm worried.
He could at least have called me to tell me he'll be home later.
We're living in New York City for crying out loud!
Another 30 minutes later I grab my cell and call him.
His phone is off. I leave a voice mail, telling him to call me.
Shit, I'm nervous like hell.
Is this how my parents felt when I got my drivers license? Went on my first dates? Left home for college?
This sucks! Really sucks!
I swear, I'll never have kids if this is the kind of worry mom always ranted about!
At seven p.m. the doorbell rings. Maybe Anthony forgot his key again...
I force myself off my bed and groan as each movement hurts. I walk over to the door and yank it open.
That's not Anthony standing in front of it! It's two cops. I wonder what they want. Maybe they got the wrong appartment.
"Mr Cullen?" asks the one standing on the left. He's huge and has dark skin and glossy black hair. I nod.
"Edward Cullen?" he asks further. I nod again.
"We're officers Black and Webber." he says, motioning towards himself and the uniform that stands beside him.
"I'm sorry Sir, but we have to inform you that your brother Anthony has been found this afternoon." I shake my head, flinching at the new wave of pain that motion causes in my skull.
Were they looking for him? Or why did he say they found Anthony?
"I don't understand..." I mumble and stare at him blankly.
"Mr Cullen, we're very sorry to have to inform you... your brother Anthony was shot this afternoon. Down in the subway station around the corner." the clearly female voice of the other detective takes over.
My head turns to look at her. She looks at me with a sadness in her eyes that's overwhelming. I shake my head in disbelief.
Is she trying to tell me...?
No, it can't be!
I look at her. Expecting, no, willing her to tell me Anthony is fine. In the hospital maybe, but recovering.
He is going to be fine! He has to be!
The bulky cop shakes his head slowly. I look back at the female. She is blinking the tears away that threaten to fall from her eyes.
"I'm sorry Sir, but your brother didn't make it." she almost whispers.
I shake my head. My limbs start to tremble.
"No!" I yell at her. "You're lying!" She has to be.
"Why are you fucking with me? What the fuck is this? A joke? Then lemme tell you ONE thing: it's not funny!" I scream and yell in some sort of frenzy.
"Sir, you need to calm down." the bulky cop adresses me in a firm voice. He steps a little closer. To protect his partner from me, I think. I must've scared her but I couldn't care less. She lied to me.
She was cracking some horrible joke.
I still shake my head.
"I'm so sorry about your loss." the short female says. Honesty and sympathy evident in her voice and her face.
"I wish I could tell you differently, but I can't. Your brother Anthony Cullen has been found dead this afternoon." she adds.
I stare at her. Stare her down. But she won't budge.
I can't believe this is happening.
"Do you need help, Sir?" she asks. "I could call someone for you. Maybe some family member or a grief councelor." she suggests.
"No." I hear myself say.
It sounds defeated, like my voice comes from a million miles away.
Outer space maybe.
"I'm so sorry!" she whispers again. Almost begging me to understand.
And I do.
This is her job. She's not doing this for fun.
I finally realize what my weird gut feeling was trying to tell me before.
Anthony... My brother. Is. Dead.
April 5th, 2007
God, how I hate this day!
I can't believe it's been a year.
I miss him and I know I always will.
I hate that I never had a chance to say goodbye.
I hate that I'll never know the reason why he had to die.
And I fucking hate this empty feeling in my chest. A part of me died with him.
This last year has been pure torture. It took months for me to even function halfway again.
I had taken one semester off.
Dad had helped me deal with the deans office.
He'd also wanted me to seek professional help. Gave me adresses of shrinks and councelors whenever we met.
But his attempts were futile.
What do they know about my pain? How can they possibly even guess the immense loss I feel? They don't know shit!
Anthony would've known.
He would've felt the same, had it been me who was shot like some rabid dog.
No one else understood...
Though I am back on track now, trying to live my life the best I can, it knocks me down again and again.
Whenever I stop thinking about Anthony for just a minute and maybe laugh about something silly or worry about the mundane things in life, I stop dead in my tracks and it hits me all over again.
Anthony is dead.
I'll never see his face again. I'll never talk to him again. And I'll never get to see him growing into the fine man he would've been had not some bastard simply thrown his young life away. And mine, too, for I will never be the same again.
The walls of our appartment seem to narrow in on me today.
I can't breathe and before I even realize what I'm doing, I have put on my sneakers and a jacket and leave the building.
I don't have to go far.
There is this guy selling flowers on the sidewalk. I buy a single red rose and head towards the one place I have avoided throughout the year.
The subway station around the corner.
The further I go, the more I tremble.
I stumble down the stairs, earning some weird looks from passers-by.
They probably think I'm drunk, but I don't care.
I make my way to the platform. Goosebumps spread all over my body.
I know the exact place where Anthony died one year ago.
I had seen pictures of the crime scene.
It isn't hard to find now.
And obviously others have found it, too.
There is a lit candle on the floor. Accompanied by a couple of white roses. Five white roses.
Maybe some of our friends have been here, too.
I put my ruby rose amongst the beautiful white ones and sigh.
This is the place where Anthony had breathed his last breath. This is the place where life had trickled out of him with every drop of blood he'd lost.
Nothing in this place reminds me of him.
This dirty place seems totally unaware of what has happened.
Anthony is no longer here but I feel strangely close to him...
I don't want to be alone tonight, so I call Rosalie.
She's been Anthony's and my best friend since highschool and the one person we both confided in whenever we felt the urge to talk to someone else for a change.
Rosalie has worried about me for the last twelve months.
I wish she wouldn't do this to herself, but she can't help it.
We meet up at the diner and sit in our usual spot when I see Emmett, Alice and Jasper walk in.
"Did you call them?" I ask Rose.
She looks guilty and nods.
"I thought it would be nice to catch up. And the guys have been worried sick and really wanted to see you." she almost begs me to understand.
And I do. They are still my friends. Although I mostly avoided them these past months.
I keep thinking about how much fun we used to have when we went out together. With Anthony.
I can't go back to that without him.
Not yet.
Maybe never.
They seem to understand and we just sit and talk for a while, stuffing ourselves with the best hamburgers and french fries in the greater New York area.
There's not that much news. Most of us are still in college and studying and writing papers keeps us extremely busy of late.
None of them is their old self.
They all try to keep it down a notch. I can tell.
I'm making them sad.
I don't want my friends to be sad but I can't help it.
Every now and then Alices eyes seem to water up and she's trying really hard not to cry.
The same goes for Rosalie. Her eyes look moist and red rimmed.
Jasper shifts in his seat uncomfortably every now and then and when I look at him, he quickly turns away.
Even Emmett, who never even bothered to catch certain drifts and shifts in the moods around him, knows something is off.
He looks sad, too. He smiles at me apologetically.
This was a bad idea and I'll ask Rose not to try it again.
Maybe some day they'll feel free to laugh again while being around me.
But that day seems so far away right now.
It's making me sad, too.
Before I say goodbye to them, I remember the subway station. The candle and the roses.
"Umm, thanks to whoever put the roses and candle there down in the Sub." I mumble.
They all simply look at me. Dumbfounded.
Then they look at each other and I can almost hear their thoughts, asking each other silently 'Did you do that?' They come up blank.
"I don't go there anymore." whispers Rose. She's embarrassed.
The same goes for Alice.
They both look down at the table.
Jasper explains that he only visits the cemetary. Alice, Rose and even Emmett nod in agreement.
"Sorry dude, but I just can't go down there anymore." Emmett mumbles.
Now I nod.
I understand.
I, too usually never go to that station anymore, but today I did.
And there were roses and a candle in the exact spot.
That can't be a coincidence! Can it?
That night I lay awake in my bed, wondering who else might have brought flowers to the platform but I come up blank.
I asked all our friends and even my parents but no one could answer that question.
I have to shrug it off eventually just to get it out of my mind. I need to get a little sleep if I intend to go to classes tomorrow.
April 5th, 2008
I still hate this date. And this day.
I'd love to stay in bed but I can't.
I'm sure mom's going to call me a couple of times today. And then she'd know it right away if I were to hide out in my bedroom all day.
She's still worried about me.
Maybe she does understand after all...
However, dad beats her to it. He's the first person to call. At 7 am.
He just got home from the nightshift he worked at the little hospital in Forks, Washington.
I tell him I'm alright but I know he won't believe me.
"Call me if you need anything." he says again and again before we hang up.
Rose, Alice, Jasper and even Emmett call me throughout the morning.
I haven't met them in forever.
Whenever I wanted to ask them to meet me at our diner, I remembered the sad looks on their faces and stopped myself from calling them.
Rose is the only one who comes over to my place from time to time.
Always giving me greetings from the rest of the bunch, but none of them ever visit me.
I understand though.
I'd probably stay away from myself, too.
In the early afternoon I step outside, making my way over to the flower-guy. Again I buy one red rose and carry it over to the subway station.
This time I'm not trembling and shaking like some lunatic but I still feel the eyes of the surrounding strangers on me.
My face must be showing on the outside what I feel on the inside.
I reach my destined point and stare... at five white roses and a lit candle on the floor.
Just like last year.
Now this is weird!
There's no way on earth that this is a coincidence!
It must've been one of our friends. One of them brought these flowers and a candle.
Again.
But who? And why did they deny it last year?
I swear will find out.
Again I put my ruby rose amongst the beautiful white ones.
I think of Anthony the entire time I'm here, try to mentally talk to him. I tell him what's been going on in my life and that isn't much.
I tell him how much I miss him and how I wish I could've been with him on that cursed day two years ago.
Maybe he wouldn't have been shot.
Maybe I could've helped or even saved him.
But I wasn't there when he needed me the most.
He was alone.
And he died alone.
On the dirty floor of this damn subway station.
I had failed him.
Failed my only brother thoroughly.
Tears well up in my eyes. I feel them leave a fresh wet trail down my cheeks. People are staring at me but I don't mind.
I walk home and call Rose.
She's almost freaking out when she hears my voice for the second time today.
I guess she never thought I'd call her again and figures it must be some kind of emergency.
I assure her that I'm alright and that she doesn't have to worry about me.
I snort. Like that could ever happen...
I ask her about the five white roses and the candle and again she doesn't know who put them there. Well, at least that's what she tells me.
She promises to ask around and call me back later. A couple of hours after we hung up she keeps her promise.
Again she tells me, none of our friends went down there.
They're still not over it and stay away from the station at all.
"But Rose, someone has to have been there." I almost whine.
"I even asked around on Facebook and Twitter but not a single person I know has even been there today. Not to mention brought flowers and a candle to the very place where Anthony..." she stops herself and I hear her sob. I try to soothe her but that takes a while.
We end up talking about Anthony the whole evening.
We share our favourite stories and in the end we even laugh about the pranks he used to pull on people.
It's nice to share these happy memories with someone for a change.
All I usually get are sad faces, tears, whispered sorries and condolences of some kind.
When Rose finally dozes off and all I can hear is her light snoring, I hang up.
I send her a textmessage thanking her for putting up with my shit.
Just before I doze off myself, an idea forms in my head.
I've always been too late to see whoever brought the roses. And apparently it's something that person does every year.
So next year I will find out who that person is.
I will get there early and if neccessary I'll wait all day.
I need to know!
April 5th, 2009
I've felt his fucking day come closer.
Every single day of the last weeks I've felt it creep up on me and my tension grew unbearably.
It's a weird feeling. I'm still sad and overwhelmed by my loss.
The pain feels freshly renewed.
I miss my brother.
Every day.
And yet, I'm strangely excited.
I've been waiting for April 5th to arrive. Knowing I'd feel like shit all day, yet I had craved for it to come.
For me to solve the riddle. To find out, to know.
And here it is. My personal day in hell.
I get up early, take a refreshing shower and have breakfast at the kitchen table. For the first time in three years I care to cook something for breakfast. I usually just pour myself a bowl of cereals or grab a granola bar on my way out.
Today I dig through the fridge and cupboards only to find that I don't have many cooking ingredients left. However, I manage to make scrambled eggs and toast and it tastes heavenly.
I eat until nothing more fits inside my stomach and wash it all down with a nice big cup of coffee.
Then I get dressed for the occasion.
Since I'll most likely spend the better part of today in some cold and draughty subway station, I settle on jeans, a t-shirt and a hooded sweater over a longsleeved T. I throw a warm jacket over the ensemble and choose my winter boots cause I'm not that keen on frozen toes.
The weather seems nice at the moment but, being April, it can change any minute.
When I step outside, I'm immediately glad I wear so many layers of clothes. The wind is ice cold.
I even get lucky today cause the flower guy is already up. I buy my usual red rose and head down into the sub.
This time I'm not late.
There's nothing there. No roses and no candle are set up.
I clutch my ruby rose, refusing to put it down on the dirty ground without its white companions, and step aside so I won't be in anyones way.
I just stand there and wait.
The morning passes by and no one shows up.
Once did I thought I had it coming, when a woman with paper-wrapped flowers in her hand hurried my way. But she just passed me by.
It is really cold down here and every single train that passes brings another gush of cold air with it.
The word thankful doesn't even begin to cover my feelings when Rose shows up at eleven, carrying a red rose herself and two steaming hot cups of coffee.
She hands me my coffee silently and I can see her bottom lip quiver.
It's hard for her to simply be here, so I understand that she doesn't stay much longer.
I will stay, though.
I want to see who brought the roses for Anthony.
As good as that hot coffee was, it also has a bad side to it.
Around noon my bladder is achingly full and I know I have to leave my post if I want my pants to stay dry.
I run up the stairs, down the sidewalk and into some bistro and use their bathroom in world record time.
I haven't been away from my spot for more than five minutes but when I get back, I stop and stare.
There they are! Five white roses draped in some plastic vase and a burning candle on the floor.
But that's it. I'm alone down here. No other person can be seen.
My brain is working furiously and I break out of my stupor.
I've just come down the one flight of stairs and encountered no one. So it's more likely that the person who left the flowers either went away by Sub or uses the second flight of stairs that leads to the other side of the road.
I run that way as fast as my feet can carry me.
When I round the corner and run into the tunnel that leads away from the platform and towards the staircase, I see a girl with long brown hair walking away.
All I can see is her back but I'm pretty sure I've never seen her in my life.
But I want to know her.
I want to see her face.
And I want to know who she is and why she brings flowers and a candle every year.
For Anthony.
A guy she can't possibly know.
As I run after her she must've heard my footsteps echoing through the tunnel.
She turns around and the next thing I register is her brown eyes widen in shock.
She gasps.
Her mouth forms a little 'o' and then she screams.
"Stay away from me!" she yells and I can see fear rocking through her body.
I stop and stare at her.
And then I realize... I'm a stranger to her and my sudden approach must've scared the living shit out of her.
I lift my hands up to show her I mean her no harm, but it doesn't help.
She is trembling so hard now, her whole body is shaking.
Her eyes are still wide open and she stares at me like I have three eyes or two heads.
I don't understand...
"I just want to talk to you." I try to calm her down but she goes into hysterics.
"Stay away!" she yells again. Then she shakes her head.
"How... can that be? I must be dreaming. This isn't real." she mumbles and squeezes her eyes shut.
I seriously don't know what to do.
I take a step closer but her eyes fly open at the exact same second and she throws her arms up as if to keep me away from her.
"Please!" I beg. "I need to talk to you. I won't hurt you. I swear."
She stares at me as if to consider if I speak the truth.
Then a tear rolls down her cheek and I want to wipe it away.
That is strange!
I don't even know her but as soon as her sobs break out violently, I feel the urge to comfort her.
"You can't be... " she stutters. "I saw you... "
"You saw me?" I ask. "Where?"
Now this is interesting... and confusing. I'm sure I would've remembered her.
"There!" she says in a high pitched voice. "I saw you there!" and she points towards the platform. And then she whispers
"You were... I thought you were dead!"
And that's when it hits me.
She thinks I am... my brother...
"No!" I yell and she jumps.
And then she turns around and runs.
Runs for her life.
"No, wait! That wasn't me." I try to stop her but she won't listen.
So I run after her.
Just when I reach her and grab her shoulder to make her stop, she stumbles and falls forward.
My body moves on its own and so fast that everything seems in a blurr.
I catch her before she hits the concrete floor. I hold her up and press her against my chest to keep her from falling and from running at the same time.
"Listen, that wasn't me..." I try to explain but she cuts me off.
"But I saw you!" she insists. "I... I... I'm not insane! I saw you! I held you in my arms... and... and... you died."
She is crying heavily now and I feel a pang in my chest.
I hurt her.
Just as I hurt my friends whenever they look at me.
"That wasn't me." I explain. "That was my brother Anthony. We were twins."
April 5th, 2010
I'm not sure anymore...
I don't know whether I should hate or love April 5th.
I hate it because it's the day I lost my other half, my better self, my conscious and my anchor. It's the day my brother Anthony died.
But I also love April 5th because it's the day I met Isabella Swan.
My Bella.
Who filled the void in my life in ways I never thought possible.
It all started out very dramatic.
With Bella going into hysterics as soon as she saw my face.
They say there's a first time for everything in life and I must say that it's true.
I have never before or since made a girl run from me in horror.
At least not since Kindergarten and most definitely not after merely looking at my physiognomy.
I usually have all kinds of girls and even older women fauning all over me once they see my face and that's not always a good thing, I can tell.
But this was different.
Once Bella really took in what I said, she calmed down enough for us to talk in that little bistro around the corner.
She told me how she'd met Anthony in the Sub and how his smile took her breath away.
They had fallen into a short but easy conversation.
He had asked her for her phone number when their ride was over and just as she rummaged through her backpack for a pen and a shiet of paper there had been this loud noise. She had only realized it was gunfire when Anthony fell down to the ground right beside her.
All she had thought about in that moment was to help him. She didn't even care about her own safety like all the other people around them, who had simply fled the scene of crime and left Anthony alone.
Bella did not run.
She had been there when Anthony died.
She had held him when he breathed one last time.
She had been there for him when I wasn't.
She had stayed with him, a stranger she'd only just met in the subway, and tried to take his fears away.
She had soothed him and kept him calm while waiting for the ambulance to arrive.
She had forced him to hold on for as long as he could and when they both realized that it would be too late, she had simply held him in her arms. Dying.
He did not die alone one the dirty floor of the subway station and that was Bellas doing.
Knowing what I knew then, made me eternally grateful.
But it also stirred something else deep down inside of me.
I felt a connection to the woman I had just met and I didn't want to loose that feeling.
So I asked if I could see her again and to my utter surprise and joy she grabbed a napkin and a pen and wrote her number on it.
When she handed it to me our fingers touched and I gasped out loud at the sensations I felt.
A prickling, tingling feeling seemed to flow between us like some weird electric current.
I stared at her and she stared right back. Surprised.
I figured she must've felt it, too. I couldn't bring myself to pull my fingers away from hers.
In some bold moment I grabbed her hand and simply held it on top of the table and never let go.
I guess it's safe to say that this was the moment I knew.
I knew and would never doubt again that something good comes out of every bad thing in life, whether we like it or not.
You cannot change the past and some things simply happen for no reason at all.
It took me four years and one Bella to realize this.
What's going on between the two of us you want to know?
Well, we've been inseperable since that day we first met and if I had it my way,
we'd be together for all eternity...